I still hate football


I have hair, which I sometimes get cut. And this week, that meant talking about football.

I hate football. I hate all sport, in fact – at least in its big, jingoistic, corporate-capitalist permutation. But for the first time in my life, I now actually know something about it.

That’s because I’ve ludicrously ended up in the work Fantasy Football league (for the uninitiated, it’s a game where you build an imaginary team using players from around the world, and score points based on how your picks perform in real-world matches).

Knowing I’m about as sporty as a Gregg’s steak bake, a colleague sarcastically asked if I wanted to join in, and I said yes just to annoy him. With a squad full of players from Panama and Iran, I was already on -8 points by the end of day one. I’m aiming to do as badly as possible. Continue reading “I still hate football”

SPOTY 2012 with a smidgen of Terry Eagleton

Bradley and Wiggins flanked by Barbie and Ken
Bradley and Wiggins flanked by Barbie and Ken

Last night saw the live broadcast of the BBC Sports Personality of the Year, the corporation’s breathlessly reverent annual celebration of the UK’s sports men and women.

Athletes make much more wholesome idols than the average sort of modern celebrity, because they’ve actually achieved something. Far better that people look up to Chris Hoy or Victoria Pendleton than a waste of carbon off of Made In Chelsea. But, in the afterglow of a resoundingly successful London Olympics, Britain’s athlete-fetishism has reached new heights of creepily messianic fervour. Continue reading “SPOTY 2012 with a smidgen of Terry Eagleton”